Alien Invasion
by aisucreamu
Summary: It's not exactly what she signed up for when she agreed to travel with him.
1. Alien Invasion Chapter 1

Clara was used to finding the odd item in her apartment after she'd had a visit from the Doctor. Half-eaten packets of Jammie Dodgers, his sonic screwdriver, the Body Swap coupon (she'd saved that) and jammed into her couch, a vial containing a glowing purple liquid that he'd warned her to step outside before he came to retrieve it. She always wondered if that accounted for the ringing she had in her ears for an entire week immediately following. He never said, and she never asked. Sometimes it was best not to ask. Saved you from dwelling on it and then worrying too much.

However, the strange assortment of leftover objects the Doctor left in his wake took a very unnerving turn one day when Clara, wrapped in only a towel and dripping wet, wandered down her hallway from the bathroom to get another towel to dry her hair with. She opened the hall cupboard and reached to get a nice fluffy white towel from the stack on the upper shelf.

As soon as her hand grasped it, the towel literally growled and hissed at her.

She jumped back with a shriek, as what she'd thought was a towel unfolded itself, stood up on six legs, opened a pair of very evil red eyes and hissed at her once more, showing off an impressive set of large fangs.

Backing up as rapidly as she could make herself move, Clara headed for the living room as the creature dropped to the floor, stretched, and hissed again. It sat down and started licking one of its back legs, occasionally growling at her. Reaching the table in front of the couch, Clara extended a shaking hand to grasp her cell phone sitting there. She amazed herself at the rapidity she managed to dial the Doctor's number, considering how her fingers trembled.

"Hello, the TAR—!" Clara cut off the Doctor's greeting as she whispered a scream into the phone.

"THERE'S A LARGE WHITE THING WITH LOTS OF TEETH IN MY HALLWAY!"

"Oh, that's just Ralph," the Doctor happily replied.

"Ralph?" her voice trembled, as 'Ralph', now so named, stood up on all six, stretched out like a cat, and moseyed in her general direction. She scrambled up onto the couch, as far away as she could get from the beast.

"Yes. A Galletienne weir cat. Relatively harmless. They like taking naps in dark places. That's why he was in your closet. I thought it would be the safest place."

'Ralph' had stopped at the end of the couch, and sat on its haunches, its red eyes fixed on Clara.

"Safe?" she asked, her voice rising with her fear. "You're worried about it being safe? What about me?"

"Oh, you're fine. Just don't open any cans of tuna, he might get overexcited or something." His voice sounded distracted, like he was giving her half of his attention.

She decided to get his whole attention. "Get…over…here…now…and REMOVE 'Ralph,'" she hissed. 'Ralph' hissed back, and started licking a front paw, extending some impressive claws as it did so.

He sighed in response. "If you insist. I needed him out of the way while I worked on the TARDIS's external influx capaciters. I was inclined to leave him at your place for a bit as they're great at catching spiders, and I know you don't like spiders. Although the spiders they normally catch are about three feet tall…"

"STOP," she commanded. "I'm already freaked out at 'Ralph.' I don't need to be any more terrified than I am now."

At that moment several things happened. 'Ralph' jumped up on the end of the couch. The TARDIS, with its usual noisy manner, materialized in the room. Clara, losing her balance in trying to get away from 'Ralph,' fell over backwards behind the couch. And in the process, her towel fell off and onto the couch. Before she could reach for it, two more things simultaneously took place. The door to the TARDIS opened as the Doctor stepped out, and 'Ralph' came over and grabbed the towel in its mouth.

Clara Oswald found herself stark naked in a heap behind her couch, a wild beast holding onto her towel, and the Doctor standing large as life in her living room.

The Doctor, unaware of Clara's plight, saw only 'Ralph' with the towel. "Clara?" he called, wondering where she was. To his surprise, her head popped up from behind the couch. Her hair was wet, and she had a wild look in her eyes.

"Clara?" the Doctor asked again. "Are you all right?" He started moving towards her.

Frantically, Clara lifted one of her bare arms and held her hand palm outward to him. "Don't take another step," she yelped.

"I have to get closer to get 'Ralph,'" he stated, obviously puzzled by her manner.

"Well, come get 'Ralph,' but close your eyes," she pleaded.

He gave her an exasperated look. "I can't retrieve him with my eyes closed. I'm liable to trip over something."

"You can't come over here," she cried, almost frantic.

"Why? What's wrong? You're acting very strange." He started moving in her direction again.

"Noooo," Clara wailed. "Don't come near me. I'm…I'm naked."

The Doctor immediately stood straight up, a shocked look on his face. "What on earth are you doing naked behind your couch?"

"I'm not sitting here for my health, that's for sure, or your entertainment," she snapped. "My towel slipped off when I fell behind the couch, and 'Ralph' commandeered it so I couldn't get it back."

Rolling his eyes, the Doctor sighed. With a swift motion, he took his coat off and tossed it over to her. "Cover yourself with that," he instructed, "while I get Ralph."

Crouched behind the couch, Clara slipped into the Doctor's coat. As small as she was compared to him, it covered her completely. She buttoned it and stood up, her modesty secure.

The Doctor, seeing she was sufficiently covered, came over and snatched up 'Ralph' by the scruff of the beast's neck. 'Ralph' hissed and spit, but otherwise settled down as the Doctor headed for the TARDIS. He opened the door and gently placed the animal inside. Then he turned back to Clara.

"Sorry. Should have asked first, I suppose, but I thought you two would get on better," he remarked.

Clara fiddled with the collar on his coat. "Um…do you want to wait while I go get dressed? Then I can give you your coat back," she suggested.

"No, I'll come back and get it. In the meantime I think I'd better take 'Ralph' home," he responded, hooking a thumb back to the TARDIS.

She watched as he jumped inside and the machine dematerialized. "Thank goodness that's over," she mused, as she wandered back to her bedroom to dress.

Little did she know.


	2. Alien Invasion Chapter 2

The next unpleasant invasion occurred on a Friday afternoon. Clara, feeling like she'd been worked over by a truck, had dragged herself home from Coal Hill School. Her students had been annoyingly snarky that day, talking back and throwing spitballs at each other. She supposed it could have been worse, but this had been enough to give her a headache. All she wanted was to get home, make a nice cuppa, kick her heels off and put her feet up on the couch. Maybe watch some mindless telly or read. Anything but look at schoolwork.

She reached her front door, shoved her key in the lock and turned the handle.

Stepping inside she was greeted with complete pandemonium.

Small white globs of…something…with little hands and feet…were running all over her apartment, squealing and throwing things. Papers were all over the floor and floating through the air. Clara stood, wide-eyed, in her doorway for a few moments. Then she dropped her book bags on the floor, spun outside and slammed the door behind her. Digging in her purse she frantically searched for her cell phone. Cursing herself for not having his number on speed dial, she made her shaking fingers tap out his number.

"Hello—" Cutting him off even earlier, she bellowed at him. "NOW THERE ARE LITTLE CREATURES IN MY APARTMENT, TEARING IT APART."

"Sorry! I needed someplace to stash those adolescent Adipose while I searched for their parents. Adipose don't take very well to time travel, poor little things. It upsets their equilibrium," he cheerily explained.

Clara took a deep breath. "Come and get them," she said through clenched teeth.

"I will! I'm arranging the pickup right now. The ship should be overhead in about, oh, a minute or so," he told her.

"Ship-?" she responded, but got no further, as the sound of a huge spaceship, thundering through the atmosphere, drowned out both her voice and anything the Doctor might be saying. Clara stepped over to where she could look out into the street. Over her head the ship hovered. A beam shot out from it. Clara had just enough time to jump sideways as it struck her door, causing it to bang open. Seconds later the plump little Adipose started floating up the beam through the air past her. Some of them waved as they went by. She snatched her hand back down to her side when she realized she'd started waving back.

Once the last blob had drifted past her, she staggered into her apartment, and took in the destruction.

"The next time I see him, I'm going to kill him," she threatened, as she looked at papers, books and food strewn everywhere.

She forgot about killing him when he took her to the planet of chocolate. Later on when she remembered, she wondered if he'd done that on purpose to make up for her apartment being trashed.

Time went on its merry way, and Clara had no further upsets for about two weeks. Then there was the refrigerator incident.

It was a Saturday night. She was watching a Jane Austen movie, and decided she wanted some ice cream with chocolate sauce. Putting the film on pause, she made her way to the kitchen. After scooping out the ice cream, Clara opened the refrigerator to retrieve the chocolate sauce. She hadn't been in the fridge since she'd got home, having micro waved a frozen meal for her tea.

In the middle of the fridge sat a large bowl containing a large glop of some kind of bluish goo. She gave it a puzzled look and started to reach for the bowl.

And then it moved.

Clara moved, too, almost faster than the eye could register. She backed up, slammed shut the fridge door, spun around and leaned heavily against the fridge. When she was sure nothing was trying to get out, she turned around and pulled the door open again.

The blue goo was starting to slither out of the bowl and feel its way around the shelf it was on.

She slammed the fridge door shut again, and stomped into the living room. Once more she dialed the Doctor's number on her cell phone. This time she didn't give him any chance at chirping a greeting when he picked up on the other end of the line.

"Get this blue goo out of my refrigerator or so help me, I'll pour chocolate sauce on the TARDIS's control panel," she growled into the phone.

"Yes'm," he responded, and the TARDIS materialized into her living room once more. The door opened and he hopped out, ran over to the fridge, and pulled the bowl out.

"Sure you don't want to be introduced?" he asked, waving the bowl in her direction.

She gave him a glare of death. "Okay then," he stated, and skittered into the TARDIS. It dematerialized a second later.

Some more time passed with the Doctor studiously avoiding her, and Clara being relieved for now that he was. This strange new habit he'd acquired of storing exotic beings in her apartment was starting to grate on her. He hadn't given her a reasonable explanation yet as to why he'd decided her flat was the safest place in the universe for his…pets. But since he seemed to have given up on the practice, Clara began to relax her guard.

That was a mistake.

Friday night again, and she'd had another tortuous day. The most obnoxious kid in class had drawn a rude picture of her on the board in permanent ink. She'd had to cover it by taping pieces of paper over it, and then explain it to the janitor after class was over. It was embarrassing and infuriating all at once. Clara felt she deserved a nice long soak in her bathtub, with some nicely scented bath salts and some candles for ambiance.

After getting home, she put some relaxing music on, then stripped herself down and headed for the bathroom. Stepping inside, she made her way over to the bath, fully intending to turn on the taps and fill it with nice, warm water.

Standing over the bath she found it already full of both water…and a large, grayish fish with bulbous extrusions on its surface.

Backing out of the bathroom, she headed into the living room to find her phone and get this settled.

"Doctor spea—"

"Out. Get it out of my bathtub."

"But…it's not taking up that much room, surely?" he whined, not even bothering to explain what it was or why it was there.

She marched back into the bathroom, aimed the phone on the camera at the tub and its contents, and then sent the picture to him.

"Blimey," he remarked, which told her he'd seen it. "He was only a little chap no bigger than a goldfish when I put him in there this morning."

"Well, now he's a big chap, and since he's all grown up, it's time for him to leave the nest. Come and get him before I decide to make fish and chips out of him," she barked, and hung up.


	3. Alien Invasion Chapter 3

Clara scarcely had time to wrap her robe around her before the TARDIS was materializing in her living room for the third time since all this insanity had started. The Doctor came out with a very large net and a large bag with a zipper, almost like a body bag. He traipsed across the room, head down, like a twelve-year-old boy whose mother had just found frogs in his bedroom. Clara could even see the hint of a pout on his mouth.

There were some splashing noises from the bathroom, and then he came out, carrying a wet net and a bag that was now sagging from the weight of the fish, or whatever it was. Before he stepped into the TARDIS, he paused and looked at her.

"Are you sure you don't want to—" he started. Clara narrowed her eyes at him and frowned. "All right, suit yourself. You don't know what you're missing," he sniffed, and stomped into the TARDIS, finny friend in tow. She watched the ship dematerialize, and then she turned to go wash her tub out with several different cleaners to try to remove any alien fish residue that might have been left behind. It was definitely not the relaxing evening she'd promised herself.

On Sunday she called him again.

"We need to talk," she stated.

"What about?" he dodged.

"The last several months," she reminded him.

"They've been lovely. You are the best companion ever, Clara, have I ever told you that? By the way, there's a wonderful planet you haven't been to yet that has the best pastries ever, some that just melt in your mouth. We should go there right now," he equivocated.

"Come here," she demanded. "Now."

"You're so bossy," he grumbled, and the sound of the TARDIS materializing filled her living room.

The door opened and he slowly came out, twisting his hands together. "Are you sure I can't talk you into going to—"

"No," she insisted. "Come over here and sit down, and we're going to have a chat."

He slowly walked over to the couch and dropped down onto it. Clara took a deep breath and began.

"Doctor…why on earth have you found it necessary to start parking every stray creature in the universe in my apartment? In the last month or so I've had to spend more than I've wanted in cleaning products to tidy up the mess your so called little friends have left behind. And that's been on days I wanted to rest and relax after putting in long hours at work. What's behind this sudden desire to drop them off at my place?"

He crossed his arms and looked at his feet. "Because I trust you. I thought they'd be safe here because you've been around aliens before, so you usually aren't startled by the different and unusual. Every being I've housed here has needed sanctuary for a space of time, and I thought…since I usually find it relaxing here…they would too."

Clara considered his words for a moment. He was actually complimenting her, even though it wasn't in a way she would have expected. But it was still too stressful for her. The apartment wasn't designed for housing wayward aliens, and Clara's job didn't always leave her capable of being patient enough with them. He needed to understand that.

"Look, Doctor, I appreciate that you trust me so implicitly in this way, but…I just can't take it any more. Please, I beg you," she implored, placing one of her hands on his. "I don't want any more aliens in my apartment. No more aliens. Okay?"

He looked up at her with deep sadness in his eyes, but Clara remained firm. "I mean it, Doctor. No more aliens."

"I understand…" he lamented, and stood up. Hanging his head, he walked across the room to his TARDIS. He turned half way toward her, but did not look in her eyes. "Goodbye, Clara."

As he reached for the door, Clara bolted over to him and stood in front of it. His whole attitude alarmed her. "You're not leaving, are you? Why are you leaving?" she questioned, plastering her hands against the door to block him from going in the TARDIS. "I didn't know it meant so much to you to leave your menagerie in my flat."

He gave her an agonized look. "You said you didn't want any more aliens here."

"Yes," she reiterated. "I'm tired of having to cope with them."

"Then I should leave," he muttered, eyes downcast. "I'm an alien, too."

Clara's heart constricted. Of course he'd take it that way. He was so fatalistic sometimes. Particularly when it came to himself.

She reached up and put her arms around his neck. His eyes met hers, wide with surprise at what she was doing. "I didn't mean you, you idiot," she breathed, pulling his face down to hers. "You're welcome here any time." She lightly kissed his lips, then pulled back to see his reaction.

It was like daylight coming after a long night. His face positively glowed, and he smiled. "I am an idiot, aren't I?" he chuckled.

"Yes," she smiled, dimples showing. "But you're my idiot."

A very sly look crossed his face. "Am I?" he asked, his arms suddenly coming up and encircling her waist.

"Sadly, yes," she replied, a blush tinting her cheeks. He leaned down and kissed them, then kissed her lips fervently.

"I'd rather be your idiot than an unwanted alien menace," he murmured, when the kiss ended a moment (or was it a thousand years? Clara wasn't ever sure) later.

"Just don't bring any more critters here, okay?" she whispered, against his mouth. "The odd jammie dodger left under the couch cushions is okay, but not giant beasties in my bathtub."

"He wouldn't have gotten any larger than the tub," the Doctor reassured her in between kisses. "I think. Maybe. Of course, there was the possibility he could have grown to the size of the bathroom itself. It is a potentiality. They do tend to grow to fit their environment, and—"

"Doctor," Clara breathed, her lips touching his. "Shut up."

"Yes ma'am," he smiled. "Have I ever told you how bossy you are?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, boss."


End file.
